Sins of The Father
by Crush48
Summary: Upon his return from Japan, Wolverine is tasked with shutting down a newly configured MRD facility. The discovery he makes leaves him coming to grips with his own honor as he attempts to bring together what could be an estranged family. Rated T for mild cursing, Violence, and possibly mildly suggestive themes. [Transferred to here from Crossover section.]
1. Chapter 1

Got the Title Idea from the Comics. Takes place in the XMEN MOVIE universe. A lot of creative freedom involved, so don't expect anything not already established in this universe to be canon, such as select characters' origins, etc.

X-MEN

Sins of the Father

"We bring to you now some breaking news. Heavy evidence of a mutant attack on-"

At this point, Logan tuned the Television out. It wasn't anything he hadn't heard for as long as he can remember. Apparently, mutants are dangerous. Even though car crashes by drunk drivers are still the number one killer. But what does he know? He'd seen the news lately, and the anti-mutant sentiment was heating up more than it already had.

He remained seated at the kitchen table, taking periodic sips of root beer. What he would do for some Coors Beer right about now. Damn school and no alcohol. Trashing the root beer and heading towards the door towards the hallway, he figured he'd need a smoke right about now.

"Logan, where are you going?"

Wolverine stopped just short of the School's main door to regard Storm.

"Just goin' for a smoke, darlin'." Logan waved the packet nonchalantly. "What, did Chuck find anything else?" he asked, referring to the progress with any new whereabouts concerning the Defunct Weapon X program. Storm smiled sympathetically with a shake of her head.

Logan grunted in acknowledgement. Ever since his return from Japan, he found the Professor more or less alive and well. He chose not to even figure out how Chuck managed to survive being disintegrated. Professor X and Magneto had reached a sort of impasse upon his return. Apparently, the political game was getting more tense.

"Not yet. He's still working on it. The Professor wants to speak to you, though."

Logan sighed, eying his unlit cigar almost sadly. "This better be more important than my smoke," he grunted, gesturing for Storm to lead the way.

"Yes, wouldn't want to interrupt you _attempting _to get high," Storm couldn't help but quip. Logan rolled his eyes in annoyance.

* * *

"Logan, the reason I've called you here, is because I have a mission for you."

"Why me, doc?" Logan plopped down on the chair that the Professor invited him to sit on.

"Because of it's connection to your past," the Professor clarified. He steepled his fingers thoughtfully while resting his elbows on the oak desk. "It has to do with the Weapon X program you were recently able to pull from your memories. They trained another like you. Also, you're really the only other qualified staff to handle this."

"I already know about Deadpool," Logan assured with crossed arms. "His name was Deadpool, Weapon XI. I remember taking care of him."

"Yes, you did," the Professor agreed. Logan didn't know why, but that came off sounding a bit condescending.

"So...What?" Logan urged. Chuck was a good guy, but his way of talking cryptically was frankly, plain annoying.

"I'm not talking about Weapon XI, Logan. Recently, I've dug up information that references a Weapon XII," Xavier contimued, looking Logan directly in the eye.

"Shit."

Just what the world needs. Another conditioned killer mutant ready to fuck someone's shit up.

"As expected, his memories are heavily tampered with, so I could not retrieve much information about who hired him. I do however, have managed to locate his base of operations."

Professor X slid a manila folder across the desk. Stamped in red letters across the front was "MISCELLANEOUS".

Logan eyed the professor briefly before picking up the folder. Opening it, he read the basic information listed.

A shadow government installation that has political freedom in their campaign to "detain" dangerous mutants. This wasn't a surprise to him, but the funder behind the project was a strange name, given only as "ROMULUS". There was something about that name he didn't like. But then again, it was affiliated with this mutant hunting group. Of course it'd lave a bad taste in his mouth.

"Alright, so what do you need me to do? Bust the place down and take this mutant assassin guy out?"

"If you can, try to bring him back here."

Logan had to raise an eyebrow at the bald man. "Have you lost your shit?"

"It sounds strange Logan, but he may be the key to foiling this agency before it creates it's own track record."

"You're the Professor," Logan acquiesced, still unsure of Xavier's sanity at this point.

"Oh, and Professor," Logan added as he got up to leave.

"Yes, Logan?"

"Is it really getting worse out there? Enough for you to have agreed with recovering my memories?"

Charles sighed, looking off to the distance momentarily. "The situation _is _getting more desperate. Any other time, I would have retained the sentiment that you find out on your own."

Logan nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"But, my sources tell me that many shadow governments much like the Weapon X program are either being revived or created. Hence, your mission." Charles leaned back in his wheelchair, his hands coming to rest on the armrests.

"You have left a greater impression on government than you might believe. You remember from your last session, remembering the wars you've been in?"

Logan allowed himself a chuckle. "Yeah. Damn, who woulda' thought? Working with Nick Fury?"

"This proves that through your long life-span, you've managed to make many connections. Having S.H.I.E.L.D. as an ally can help immensely in what these shadow governments are planning."

* * *

Professor Xavier requested he take the Jet, something Logan was reluctant to do. He still had a dislike of flying. All this technology, and they don't have some sort of super motorcycle?

Strapping himself in, he wondered why he wasn't assigned with anyone for this mission. Sure, Bobby, Peter, and the rest of 'em weren't quite as experienced as say, One-eye, while he was alive.

...or Jean. Wolverine sighed aggressively. She was dead, for good this time. Unfortunately, it had to be him that did it.

The fact was that this had a lot do with his own past and the Professor allowing him to go it alone wasn't something he was going to complain about, he wasn't overly-confident of if he could take down a whole military base and bring back a trained mutant assassin.

Ah, why the hell not? If he would go by experience, he did something similar with three-mile island.

The hangar bay doors began to part, allowing the Jet take-off space.


	2. Chapter 2

Got the Title Idea from the Comics. Takes place in the XMEN MOVIE universe. A lot of creative freedom involved, so don't expect anything not already clearly established in this universe to be canon, such as select characters' origins, etc.

Chapter 2

Activating pre-flight checks for the Jet didn't take long and Logan was in the ground in moments. Stepping down the ramp of the camouflaged vehicle, he surveyed his surroundings. He landed in a dense canopy about a mile off from the suspected facility. The heat from the summer day was evident by the dry grass patches randomly spotting the grounds. Quickly lighting a cigar, he made his way through the dense foliage, following the suggestions of the tracker he picked up from the Jet's cockpit.

His trek towards the facility was oddly uneventful. He expected to be jumped by soldiers at the next bend or ambushed by a militia that should surely be hanging around somewhere. But...no presence outside the building. Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Logan began to move expeditiously towards the side of the large dull-ray steel building. Aiming the tracker directly in front of him, the device didn't make any unusual sounds.

"All clear, then," he mumbled. He pocketed the oblong handheld and a set of claws burst from either hand's knuckles with a metallic _SNICKT_.

It hardly took any effort for the adamantium claws to pierce through the steel wall like a hot knife through butter. He cleanly cut though the wall, creating a large "X" before shoulder tackling his way through the now weakened barrier. Sometimes, it worked out to have a metal skeleton, Logan thought wistfully.

The first sense to be assaulted was his olfactory senses. Taking a deep breath through his nostrils, he could _smell _about 5 different people in the room to his left. It smelled like fear, aggressiveness, and hostility. If this place is imprisoning mutants, he doubts that the majority of these scents of hostility are coming from the mutants. They're more likely to be scared and confused.

Well, it was about time to let them out, but first he needed to make sure he couldn't be stopped when that happens. Turning the other direction and ignoring the guards for now, Wolverine moved quickly through the hallways, trusting his sense of smell to warn him when to hide in a crevice or stop at a corner. At the last corner he reached, there were two guards in non-descript uniforms. They could be mistaken for Riot Police. The only indicator of them belonging to a Militia was the logo on the sides of their jacket sleeves.

"MRD..." Logan mouthed the name silently, committing it to memory. Must be the name of the agency, apparently.

_Shit, _Logan thought. They were coming in his direction. There'd be no way to avoid them without having to incapacitate them. He fleetingly considered offing them, but thought better of it. Whoever they work for probably know who he is, and it would only give away who actually busted up the place. Looks like he'd have to do it the hard way. Chuck would be so proud, he thought with an eye-roll.

The guards were silent, focused on their patrol duty, but didn't expect a man in some sort of combat suit to leap out of the corner. One of them was dropped by the stranger's punch before anything could be understood. Thinking quickly, the remaining guard brought his rifle up to bear, aiming quickly. He couldn't pull the trigger, as he could've sworn the intruder had procured a set of indestructible knives out of nowhere. His gun was cut into four equal pars and now lay useless on the floor, sparking. He better call for backup. There was an intruder on the premises. He only got as far as pressing the button on the comlink before the man's punch actually _broke _the visor of his helmet and reached his face.

"-Over! What's the issue?"

Logan heard the voice on the other end of the unconscious guard's jacket lapel. He picked it up, quickly pressing down on the comlink's button.

"Uh, no problem here. I was uh, on patrol towards the uh, security room. The intern can't remember which side of the building it's on."

"Well, he's goin' the wrong way," came the reply from the comlink. "It's on the door to you guys' left. Newbies, eh?"

Logan looked at the comlink incredulously. Whoever was on the other line is an idiot, but he's not complaining. "Yeah. Right. Over." He dropped the comlink on the ground, walking on it in the process, as he made his trek towards the security room.

* * *

"Alright, Akihiro. Looks like you'll be getting your shit done early."

A laugh.

The Assassin in question didn't make any movements to suggest he was listening. The only sign he was awake was the periodic clenching of his right fist.

"We thought it would be some feds that would need to disappear."

Still no response from the Assassin.

"It's the Wolverine."

The assassin's hands suddenly stopped moving. He sat still for several seconds before standing up. Without preamble, he stalked out of the room. Three claws in each forearm were thirsting for blood.

Finally, he would avenge his mother, the only person who may have ever loved him. And who he never had the opportunity to meet.

Wolverine would die today, he thought with resolve.


	3. Chapter 3

Got the Title Idea from the Comics. Takes place in the XMEN MOVIE universe. A lot of creative freedom involved, so don't expect anything not already clearly established in this universe to be canon, such as select characters' origins, etc.

Chapter 3

"This is ridiculous. The comlink's dead."

"I just talked to him a second ago, cap."

Professor Hudson sighed in exasperation. This was the first instance of an intruder in this facility, and he makes it close to the center of the building. Were the patrols asleep the whole time?

"It's inconsequential now. Where is he?"

At the professor's request, one of the guards by the door listened to some unheard words from his comlink.

"He's just entered the security room. We can lock it down. Trap 'im in there." The younger MRD guard next to him frowned.

"There's still some soldiers in there, sir. If we lock the room, they'll-"

"They know what they were getting into when they joined this agency," the professor sighed. The young guard closed his eyes in disappointment. He's sure those hapless guards in the security room didn't plan to be so easily disposable.

* * *

The door slid shut with an electronic "ding". There was another door directly ahead of him, which was probably full of guards and officers. Ignoring it for the moment, he scanned the tables to his sides to see if he could find any information.

Sliding his hand over a laminated, black folder, he noticed four symbols on it's front.

"X-23" Logan read aloud. He raised a brow, opening the folder. Nothing he could glean from the body of words besides "Fraternal DNA" and "Mitochondrial Stabilizer". Something about "Perfecting failed conditioning of Canine Mutations". He sighed before tossing the folder back on the table. Nothing important enough to carry back with him.

"Door Locked."

Wolverine frowned upon hearing the feminine, electronic voice. Turning around to regard the door, he unsheathed the claws from his right arm, dragging it across the door.

No damage at all.

"This thing must be made of something stronger than steel..." the Mutant hypothesized. His claws couldn't puncture the door. He was effectively trapped until he could find a way out through unconventional means. At least more unconventional than the blades in his arms.

"Here goes nothing," Logan exhaled heavily, running his claws through the only available door control panel. It would lead him deeper into the security rooms, which was where he was headed anyway.

The security door slid open with a groan, as though protesting the unauthorized entry. Dozens of network administrators and guards were inside, watching him owlishly.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, bubs."

The tech-savvy portion of the employees wasted no time in retreating past Logan, towards the only exit. Moments later, protests were heard as they realized the door wouldn't open.

Logan ignored them, and brought a cigar to his mouth.

"Mind if I smoke this?"

The guards watched him incredulously before their training kicked in, the lot of them aiming their rifles at his person.

"Guess not," the bearded man said with a drawn out sigh. He looked out of place, wearing a dark beige jacket with two horizontal white stripes on either sleeve, and dark blue, slightly baggy jeans. It was unsettling for the guards that he seemed so at ease with all of their guns trained on him.

Logan abandoned the cigar after one deep inhalation, grinding his shoe over the smoke stick.

Finally, all hell broke loose.

"Shoot 'im, ya pansies!"

It was total bullet hell as Wolverine leaped towards the side, sliding across the smooth metal floor. Before friction forced him to stop, he dragged his claws through some table legs, then kicking it _hard_, causing it to slide quickly towards a large group of the MRD's. Without being able to properly defend against the sudden offensive, several were knocked off balance by the careening object. The rest began to fan out, attempting to box the crazed intruder in.

To everyone's wide-eyed astonishment, the man with claws literally _leaped _across the room, barreling into one of the nine remaining guards. The spray of gunfire resumed, attempting to pick the man off. To the gunmen's mild surprise, Logan hadn't outright killed the man he lunged at, but his rifle, or leg for that matter weren't much better off.

With four guards down, it was eight to go.

"We need backup! Repeat, backup!" one of the officers shouted desperately into his comlink. His breathing was uneven, mostly from shock. The intruder just took down nearly half a dozen armed officers. The fact that bullets that did manage to hit him seemed to be sliding out of him of their own accord wasn't helping. Logan stretched his shoulders, the damaged tissue from the bullets gradually healing as he exhaled a breath. The eight guards collectively took a step back.

"He's one of them muties," one guard whispered to any of the others that could hear.

"The damned CO locked us in here, man," another guard ground out. Most likely the one who tried to call for backup.

"Look," Logan sighed. "I ain't here to off ya. I'm looking for someone. Tell me where I can find 'im, and I don't kill you, and you look into a career change. How's that sound?"

The remaining guards seemed to be mulling it over and they all turned their heads to look at the man who was on the comlink earlier. Apparently, he was the highest ranked in the room. He looked down at the ground for a moment before returning his gaze to Logan. Unceremoniously, he dropped his rifle to the ground. Only seconds later, his subordinates followed suit.

"Fine. We're not no damn marines. We'll tell you." One of the MRD's broke off to retrieve the injured.

The lights flickered for a moment before they cut out completely. The only illumination came from some of the computers now glowing screens or backlights from random CPU's and keyboards.

Then the previously locked door opened suddenly.

"The hell's going on?" one of the MRD's demanded, reaching quickly for his gun. The rest of them grabbed theirs off of the floor.

The soldiers seemed to agree to an uneasy alliance with Logan, but kept a reasonable distance from him.

"One of the weapons went rogue," an MRD whispered to his superior.

"Shit."

"What happened?" Logan asked, walking in step with the present MRD's superior. The officer seemed to be having an internal debate before he spoke. He sighed in resignation.

"One of Dr. Hudson's subjects. It went rogue. He's trashing the guards n' shit. The doc keeps calling him Weapon XII."

"You guys get out of here. And I mean leave this place. I catch one of you around again, I just might be liable to kill you. I'll handle 'im."

The officers didn't reply and simply made their way opposite Logan was going. He wasn't sure what 'Weapon XII' looked like, but it shouldn't be too hard to find a rogue mutant assassin, right?

Logan took out yet another cigar. People may think he does this out of arrogance, but it was to calm his nerves. Many people consider him 'indestructible' or someone who can't die. Nigh-indestructible, maybe, but not invincible. This will be his first time in a long while, facing off against a Weapon X program subject. If Weapon XI or his brother were any indication, even a guy like him who can heal fast would have trouble with someone even remotely connected with the late Col. Stryker.

As if to emphasize his thoughts, a man slowly turned the corner, his even pace coming to a stop about 15 meters from Logan.

The guy was tall. Probably about a head taller than Logan, he thought wryly. He had a mane of hair down the middle, but the sides were shaved, like a large-scale Mohawk. The taller man's eyes were distinctly slanted, suggesting his Asian heritage, yet he looked as though he shared mixed traits. He wore a nondescript black military vest with what looked like black ski pants with the straps hanging off the sides. Black combat boots and his straight stance betrayed his military training.

"You must be the one they call Weapon XII," Logan not quite asked. He needed to be sure. Of course, Stryker kidnapped mutants when they were young. The kid looked to be about 21.

"And you must Weapon X, yes?" Weapon XII replied with a slight Japanese accent.

"That ain't my name anymore."

"Of course. You try to pretend you're not an animal."

The hell did that remark come from. "What's your real name?" Wolverine queried. He pointedly ignored the young man's insult.

"It is Daken. You gave me that name."

Logan didn't even know this kid, and he's speaking as if they were buddies. He regained _some _memory, but not all of it. Maybe in some other place and other time, they _were _buddies.

"Look, I know the Weapon X program is some crazy crap, I've been there," Logan said, rolling the cigar around in his mouth. "I know a sanctuary for people like us where you can get away from all of this. We don't have to fight."

Daken half-smiled. There was a glint in his eye that gave the smile an appearance of a scowl.

"I don't care about any sanctuary. I'm here on purpose. For revenge."

"Revenge for what? What do I have to do with it?" Logan noticed Daken unconsciously clenching his hands in response.

"You...You don't remember?" Daken grit his teeth. How could this beast not remember what he did to his mother. Wolverine's own wife? Daken clenched his fists hard enough to crack his knuckles.

"You should know what it was you did before I kill you."

Logan only kept eyeing Daken cautiously. No recognition in his pupils or facial expression. Daken sneered in disgust.

"You killed my mother. Your wife!" Daken nearly shouted, but managed to keep his voice leveled.

Logan's brows lowered in confusion. "Wha-"

Jagged, nearly three inch thick, bone claws shot from Daken's knuckles. One claw above his index and opposite end of his hand, and a sinister looking claw sprouted below his forearms, easily reaching past his knuckles to rest opposite the two upper claws.

Logan nearly gawked incredulously, the cigar in his mouth forgotten as it dropped to the floor.

"Holy shi-"

Daken broke into a full speed sprint, his claws still unsheathed, intent on impale Wolverine on all six of his claws. Once he is only a couple of meters away, he leaped forward, a superhuman lunge with his arms positioned forward, ready to bludgeon his father.


	4. Chapter 4

Got the Title Idea from the Comics. Takes place in the XMEN MOVIE universe. A lot of creative freedom involved, so don't expect anything not already clearly established in this universe to be canon, such as select characters' origins, etc.

Chapter 4

Had Logan hesitated a second longer, Daken's claws would have pierced right through his neck. Granted, that most likely wouldn't have killed him, but it'd hurt like hell, that's for sure. Logan's claws snapped through his arm with a loud _SNIKT_. He brought his arms up in a neutral guard, claws facing upward, deflecting most of Daken's swings.

Logan raised a questioning eyebrow. What were this kid's bones made of? They weren't grafted with metal, yet the Assassin's claws didn't snap from impacting his own Adamantium ones. That was something he'd have to ask this guy about, if he could subdue him. Logan decided to go on the offensive. Daken snarled when the X-Man sidestepped a careless lunge. He brought his fist down, intent on raking his claws right through Daken's arm. The younger mutant evaded by thrusting forearm towards Logan's attacking wrist. With a spinning back kick, distance was created.

"Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

"You fight like a Samurai," Daken responded, simultaneously evading the question. Both were winded, but not quite exhausted. Akihiro balled his fists before relaxing them. He did not know what to expect, but he wasn't prepared for the Wolverine to have Swordsman Training. And he seemed to be using it unconsciously.

To his surprise, Wolverine retracted his claws.

"I dunno what this agency told you," Wolverine rubbed the back of his neck where Daken got a glancing blow in. It was already healing. "But their full of shit. A lot of people consider me an animal, but I got standards. I'd never kill a woman in cold blood." Daken's scowl deepened.

"I don't know what happened, I can't remember, but it wasn't me. Couldn't had been me." Wolverine was resolute in his argument, and this only served to infuriate Daken more.

"You lie! Do you take me for a fool!?" Daken broke into a sprint, both his arms chambered back as though to gut Wolverine. Wolverine managed to evade his reckless advance. Daken was getting more and more careless with each consecutive strike. Daken wasn't using his training, rather he was giving in to blind rage.

Logan knew all too well what that felt like.

Talking to Daken right now was out of the question. His swings were slow and undisciplined now, but all the more dangerous. Wolverine let fly his claws again, deflecting the surprisingly sturdy bone claws of his attacker. Grabbing for the younger man's wrist as he lunged at him, Wolverine put him into an arm lock, effectively ending the fight.

"Daken! Listen! I can help you find out what happened!"

Akihiro tried his best to spit on him, but from his incapacitated position, he managed only to spit near Logan's foot.

Daken was still tensed, but at least he wasn't actively trying to break out of the hold. Maybe that was progress.

"I swear I will kill you," he said, deathly calm.

Logan closed his eyes briefly, either in annoyance or disappointment. This was getting nowhere.

"Alright, fine. You wanna kill me? Kill me, then." Logan demanded, stepping back and letting go of Daken. He held his arms out to his sides as though daring him to do it.

The young man looked at him as though he grew a second head.

"This is what you wanted isn't it?"

No response.

"Isn't it!?" Logan nearly shouted. He took several steps towards Daken, so that they were only half an arm's length apart.

"I told you, I can't remember. But their's so much that I need to uncover, maybe I did kill her. I damn sure deserve to die several times over, then."

Daken's angered expression was cracking. Not sure how to respond to this. This wasn't how it was supposed to end up. Wolverine should be fighting him all the way to the end, not just...giving up.

It was disappointing, and it made him feel like the villain. But, no! This man, he killed his mother, and should die for that! Why couldn't he swing at him? His claws were still extended.

"Do it!"

Feeling as though he wasn't in control of his own body, Daken punched Logan's stomach, claws still extended. Logan let out a pained shout, dropping to his knees. Daken stepped back, looking at Wolverine's slumped figure, a small puddle of blood beginning to pool on the floor.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Daken felt disgusted with himself. Sheathing his claws, he ran past Wolverine's kneeling form, and away from the building.

* * *

Logan didn't know how long he'd been kneeling there, one hand on the floor for support and the other clutching the area he'd been gutted. He'd been shot in the stomach plenty, but never pierced with claws. Until yesterday, he'd only thought it was Sabretooth with a freaky mutation like his. He wondered where that bastard could be, anyway. He doubted falling off the Statue of Liberty really managed to injure anything except his ego.

Logan felt the damn agonizing sensation of new skin crawling over his wound and torn up tissue straightening itself in his stomach.

Felt like someone was trying to light some damn matches in his gut.

Slowly rising off the floor, his breathing finally regulated itself and it didn't hurt to inhale. He took a cursory glance at his stomach, no sign of their having been an injury besides three clear holes in his shirt.

Starting to walk, a spike of pain shot through his stomach.

Hm, still must be healing. That kid did a real number on him. He made his way down the hallway, occasionally losing balance from the random bursts of pain from his healing intestines, liver, and other near-stomach tissue and organs. Once again, he came across the security room he'd long ago left. Entering it again, he saw the folders' he'd dismissed as unimportant sitting on the table.

The folder marked X-23 seemed to just have unimportant notes about genetic engineering. He was _really _getting tired of these "X" oriented code names. High chance it could be another unfortunate mutant victim. Maybe Chuck would know what to do with it. No point in keeping it here. He grabbed the folder and several others that he realized had locations for some of the cells in the facility.

How had he missed this?

Stretching his back, he concluded that he was completely healed and good to go. Jogging deeper into the facility, he referred to the folders he'd found to find the cells.

As he turned a corner, the hallways seemed to look even more Spartan than before. The walls were a smooth metallic and completely featureless, to the point where you couldn't see where one plate of metal met another. The lights were bright and harsh, and were annoying to his enhanced eyesight.

Squinting as he walked, he stopped at the first row of cells.

It was strange to see, but a lot of these mutants had animal characteristics. There was a female leaning against the wall who looked like she hadn't eaten enough. Her skin was marked with veins, and her pupils looked reptilian. There was a young man in an adjacent cell, head resting on his arms as he sat. The most outlandish trait was his wild hair, which looked even more animalistic than Logan's. Spots of fur covered this sides of his head that he could see and along his arms.

Is this what that folder was talking about? Something about Zoological mutations?

Not wasting anymore time, Wolverine walked up to the nearest cell. It was the Wolfish looking kid. The kid raised his head and looked up at him with guarded caution.

Logan ignored him for the moment to study the mechanics of the door. The doors were featureless looking except a data entry box resting on it. Next to the doors are window openings that seem to be blocked by some kind of laser technology.

Fancy tech, but it didn't look immune to good ol' fashioned adamantium claws. Wolverine unsheathed the claws on his right hand, capturing the attention of several of the prisoners. The wolf kid watched in fascination as Logan ran his claws through the device, shutting off the laser field. The kid was able to walk right through the window opening.

"You're, you're-" the wolf kid began, his voice gruff and deeper than it should have sounded on such a short teenager. "You're like me."

"What's your name, kid?"

"Gibney." The young mutant seemed to be trying to remember his full name. "Kyle Gibney," he said after a small pause.

Logan nodded once. "Alright. Follow me, Kyle. We're getting yer buddies outta here." Logan didn't wait to hear his reponse as he repeated the action with the first door, moving much more quickly.

The prisoners began to follow him as they were let out of their cells, mutants of all kinds of animal mutations watching him with a mix of curiosity, excitement and apprehension among them.

"Mister. What now?"

It was that one mutant that had snake features. She was a head shorter than Wolverine. She reminded him of Toad, oddly enough. Of course the kid didn't look nearly as ugly or old, but she had similar pasty skin, which was a pale off-white, and slick hair that also reminded him of Mystique, albeit a bit messier.

Logan smiled. "We're leavin' this place. You ready to fly on a jet?"

The mutant youngsters gathered around looked at each other dubiously, smiles beginning to form on some of their faces.


	5. Chapter 5

To readers, sorry about last chapter, I just realized how many times I was typing _stomach _in one paragraph. Lol.

Got the Title Idea from the Comics. Takes place in the XMEN MOVIE universe. A lot of creative freedom involved, so don't expect anything not already clearly established in this universe to be canon, such as select characters' origins, etc.

Chapter 5

Although Wolverine found the imprisoned teens at the MRD facility, overall the mission was a failure. Daken escaped to who knows where. Hopefully, the files that Logan found on the desk in the security room would be of any use. The _Blackbird_'s engines were unheard from the interior. It was a comfortable silence, even with all of the extra passengers Logan picked up. All of them were clearly exhausted. surprisingly, none of them argued with him about the school he said he'd be taking them to. He wasn't sure if it was because it was him that had rescued them or what, but he didn't complain.

The featureless view outside the windows slowly began to dissipate as the _Blackbird _broke through the clouds. City rooftops began to materialize from the moving ground far below. They'd be arriving at the Xavier's Institute in moments.

With the landing procedures in place, Logan left the pilot seat to sit in the passenger's area.

"Any of you know who's been there longest?" Wolverine asked, hoping to get some answers from the former prisoners.

The teens looked at each other cautiously, none of them eager to drop any information. Logan exhaled through his nose, regarding all of the young mutants carefully.

"Look, this isn't an interrogation," Wolverine placated. He raised his hands level with his chest in a show of neutrality. "I'm looking to stop these guys, so no more people like us get taken away by them."

The kid with the wolf features, Kyle, looked like he was working up the courage to speak. His pointed ears seemed to twitch momentarily, reminding Logan of a depressed puppy.

"There was," he began, but took a couple calming breaths before continuing. "There was this one girl. She was there before any of us got there. They did experiments on her."

"Do you know what happened to her?"

The wolf-kid looked up at him before averting his gaze again. "She had claws like yours-Made of metal, I mean."

Logan's brows dropped near instantaneously. Someone else with metal claws? He wasn't even going to bother trying to rationalize the implications of that right now.

"I don't know where she is. Those soldier people took her away, long before you came n' saved us."

Logan nodded, half-listening. He rested his chin on his hand, just soaking in the new information. Maybe this had some relation to those folders he picked up...

"Do you know her name?" Wolverine asked, returning his gaze to Kyle. He seemed to shrink slightly under Logan's gaze.

"I-I dunno."

Kyle must have been intimidated by his presence, either that, or he was unsure how to react to someone not trying to stick a needle in his arm.

"It's alright. It's fine if you don't know." Wolverine sighed softly, deciding not to ask him any more questions. He squeezed Kyle's shoulder, hoping to get across that he wasn't upset.

A soft _Ding _accompanied by the slowly blinking lights alerted him that the _Blackbird _was making it's landing.

_Logan, I'm glad you've returned safe and sound._

Wolverine didn't care how many times he'd hear Chuck's voice in his head. He'd never get used to it.

"Glad to be back, Wheels," he replied softly. He didn't know for sure, but he was certain Chuck had heard him.

* * *

Once the basketball court opened to allow passage into the hangar of the mansion, the Jet's ramp descended. Steam released from pressurized pistons suddenly loosening. At the base of the ramp, waiting for him were Bobby and Kitty.

"Hey Logan," Bobby greeted with a nod once he observed Logan descending the ramp.

"The professor asked us to wait up for you-" Kitty cut herself off as she noticed some teenagers -several of them- following Logan's lead down the ramp.

"Uh, you picked up some friends, I take it?"

Logan simply grunted in response.

"Yeah, I hope this doesn't become a habit," the older Mutant sighs half-jokingly to some inside joke. Seconds later, he turns around, waving the rather large group of rescued teens to him.

"Don't worry. You guys are safe now. These two here, they have uh, abilities as well."

"You can call me Bobby. I also go by Iceman," the young man grinned. He demonstrates his namesake when the exposed skin not covered by his shirt and pants suddenly take on a reflective, icy appearance. Several audible gasps could be heard from the other mutants. Even Wolverine had an eyebrow raised.

"That's new," Logan said aloud with a lopsided grin.

"Eh, never really had a reason to do it," Bobby smiles again, vapor seeming to escape from his mouth as he talks. He then lets the icy skin seemingly vaporize to reveal flesh again.

"I didn't even know you could do that!" Kitty exclaims, looking at Bobby approvingly. He simply shrugged, his smile remaining.

"Uh, Mr. Logan, you mind if I walked with you to where ever we're goin?"

It was Kyle again. He didn't look like the shy type at all, but his arms were crossed behind his back, looking in no general direction. The sight was kind of silly, as hairy as the kid was.

"Sure, I'll walk with y'all."

Kyle made a not-quite smile and nodded his head once. Logan waved his hand at the young mutants again, encouraging them to follow.

Bobby and Kitty caught up with Logan as he made his way to the Headmaster's office.

"For an abrasive guy, you seem to have a lot of charisma," the phasing mutant observed with a laugh.

Logan had to seriously think on that assessment. The large group turned a corner, shaking his head. "Is that an insult or a compliment?"

"I don't think she means it's a _bad _thing," Bobby chipped in.

"Whatever," Logan dismissed. They noticed the almost hidden smile on his face, though.


	6. Chapter 6

To readers, sorry about last chapter, I just realized how many times I was typing _stomach _in one paragraph. Lol.

Got the Title Idea from the Comics. Takes place in the XMEN MOVIE universe. A lot of creative freedom involved, so don't expect anything not already clearly established in this universe to be canon, such as select characters' origins, etc.

Chapter 6

Her containment cell was unlit, Spartan, and not unlike a solitary confinement space. But he didn't care. It wasn't his job. And even if he could, he still wouldn't have cared.

Zander typed away at his laptop, forcing himself not to glare hatefully at the subject inside of the cell. The window was one-way, so anyone could look in, but it couldn't look out. But it still unnerved him that she seemed to always be looking toward his general direction.

Zander brought the microphone resting next to his computer towards his mouth.

"X-23. This will be the final session for your...conditioning," the scientist stated, somewhat relishing the fact that the subject's eyebrows dropped in discomfort.

Served her right. She was a bastardized clone of the shit that killed his father! It wasn't like she was a _real _human.

That's right. Mutant and engineered in a test tube. None of this was unethical.

The session involved conditioning her muscle memory to react violently to a lab-made scent. Impossible to be produced in nature, but with a lab with enough money, anything's possible. X-23 would periodically have her bones laced with the Adamantium her "Father" was famous for in the military community. During this process, the lab-made scent would be pumped into the subject's containment cell. This process has been done since she was first injected with Adamantium.

The metal now covered 89.7% of her entire body.

Typing the rest of the long string of symbols into the command prompt on the screen, Zander pressed enter on the keyboard.

* * *

The woman, no, teenager in the cell was up to this point, cuffed to a chair, her arms trapped to rest on a plain steel table. Her arms were the only parts of her body not yet injected with the Adamantium. She began to take erratic breaths through her nose as the apparatuses on either side of the table began to slowly trudge towards the table, and ultimately her arms. Knowledge of the pain to come was enough to bring tears to her eyes. The heaving of her chest was the only movement she could perform. Her ankles were cuffed together and a brace on her neck kept her from moving her head at all.

The needles drew closer to her trapped arms and she could smell that odd gas pumping through the vent again.

The needles punched through her arms in one quick movement and the tears trailed without restraint down her cheeks as if a dam broke free.

The pain was so intense, so ridiculous, that it felt like her nerves were overloading. Almost to the point where she simply just couldn't feel them. unconsciously, her eyes rolled to the back of her head, forgetting the gas, the needles, and the hot metal that shouldn't be flowing into her arm.

* * *

Zander had his fingers steepled in front of him, resting his chin on his thumbs. He himself even had to cringe at the needles when they drilled into the subject's arms.

He had to admit, the girl was tough to never have screamed out during any of the trigger scent conditionings, even though she passed out every time. Typing in another set of commands into the terminal, the restraints binding X-23 removed themselves. She promptly face-planted onto the table, the distinct metallic clang of metal on metal sounding through the speakers.

Zander activated the recorder on the side opposite his speaker.

"Subject Weapon X, Designation 23, successful grafting of True Adamantium to outer layer of entire skeletal structure. Psychological conditioning of forced volatile reaction to chemical compound dubbed "Trigger Scent" successfully completed."

Zander Rice shut off the recorder, placing it into his binder. Looking around discreetly, he fingered the vial he "appropriated" from the testing room. No one in the facility knew he had a vial of the trigger scent. And he was going to keep it that way. This...this thing in the other room would help him finally get his revenge.

* * *

Daken stalked silently along the sidewalk, his thought running a mile a minute.

What was he to do now? He'd found his father, even ran him through with his own claws. But he was dissatisfied. Why was this?

Daken growled angrily, forcefully stuffing his hands into his pockets. Unconsciously, he fingered the cell phone in his jacket pocket, an idea coming to him.

He recalled the words his father told him, about a sanctuary for mutants. Perhaps he should find this place, and he would find his father. When he located him again, they would definitely be talking. With a tangible goal in mind, Daken made his way to the nearest bar.

He needed a bike.

* * *

Dr. Sarah Kinney was having trouble restraining her strangled breaths as she struggled to find the card that'd unlock the door holding her daughter.

She knew that what she was doing was foolish and unplanned, but there was no time. Zander had just gotten the head of the project, Dr. Sutter, killed. The facility's investigative team reported that it was "methodical double stab wounds" in Dr. Sutter's and his wife's bodies.

But she knew who did it. Her daughter killed them. Unconsciously, because of that damned scent experiment.

Finally grabbing the correct card key out of her pocketbook, she slid the card through the reader, allowing the cell's door to finally slide free. The noise alerted the young teen, who had been resting her head on her arms. Raising her head, she appeared confused at Sarah's appearance.

"Doctor?"

Sarah hid the brief pained expression crossing her face. She wished she could call her mom. At least once, but circumstances never allowed it. But this moment would probably be the first real and substantial act as a mother.

"I'm getting you out of here. No more experiments. Come on," Sarah encouraged, moving over to X-23 to gently grip her shoulder. The younger woman followed without argument. Unnoticed to Sarah, X-23's pupils kept constricting. Repeatedly, she shook her head as though trying to rid a fog in her brain.

To Sarah's pleasant surprise, they made it outside of the facility. They were now about 3 miles off from the site, safe enough to at least take a breather.

"Honey, in case...in case something happens to me, hold onto this."

X-23's hand was held in Sarah's and the older woman put a small manila folder in her hand, tiny enough to be placed in her palm and contain perhaps, a multi-folded sheet of paper.

"Don't read this until you know it's safe, understand?"

X-23 nodded mutely. Sarah nodded also, squeezing her shoulder before pulling her into a hug. She had to say this before it happens, before she wouldn't remember what she said.

"If circumstances were different, I never would have let them raise you the way they did. I'll always love you."

X-23 eyes were downcast, blinking in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Remember, do not kill in cold blood and only do it if it's absolutely necessary. Promise me."

"Doctor Sarah, I don't-"

"Promise me," she pleaded more forcefully.

"I," the younger woman frowned. "I promise."

"I'll always love you, Sarah." She took a last breath and braced herself. She knew what was coming and she pulled her into a tight hug.

**_SNIKT_**

Sarah's body tensed and she gasped for air. Her breath was getting weaker and she slowly looked down as her life started to seep out of her. X-23 was rigid in her arms and Sarah slowly cupped her cheek. She looked up at her biological mother, eyes constricted as though under a spell.

"I'll always love you, Laura," Sarah breathed. She started to lose balance and finally, unceremoniously, toppled over to the side, the blades exiting the wound.

X-23 looked at the body for the longest time, her pupils slowly dilating to normal size. She hadn't moved from her position, her fist still balled painfully, two claws extended through her knuckles one near her index finger and the other near her ring finger. Her hand started to shake as she realized that fresh blood laced her metal claws from middle to tip. She stared down in horror at the body of Sarah Kinney. The only person to ever read a book to her. To show any kindness to her.

X-23 burst into tears before vomiting onto the ground.

_A/N: I hoped this chapter didn't move too fast._


	7. Chapter 7

To readers, sorry about last chapter, I just realized how many times I was typing _stomach _in one paragraph. Lol.

Got the Title Idea from the Comics. Takes place in the XMEN MOVIE universe. A lot of creative freedom involved, so don't expect anything not already clearly established in this universe to be canon, such as select characters' origins, etc.

Chapter 7

"What's up, Chuck?" Logan dropped onto the seat offered to him by Xavier. He crossed his arms, signifying that he was listening to whatever it was that the school's headmaster summoned him for.

Charles leaned forward, crossing his hands on the oak desk. He sighed quietly, not quite looking Logan in the eye. He was figuring how to word whatever great news he had, Logan figured.

"Logan, so far we haven't been able to track down," Charles slowed his speech deliberately, glancing at Logan meaningfully.

"Daken."

"Right. We haven't been able to track down Daken at the moment. As I've told you before, I can't seem to pick him up on Cerebro. However, I've managed to track the girl you described for me. What's odd is that it appears she's on her way here, to Westchester."

"Why would she be coming to this city, this state of all places?"

"I'm unsure myself. New York is famous for being a bustling metropolis where one can hide easily. I don't have a concrete explanation. If you'd like to catch up to her, you'll need to go to Grand Central Station. She's on a passenger train."

Logan sighed, looking through the open window behind the professor.

"What's on your mind Logan?"

"Can't you just pull the information out?"

"I _could."_

Logan returned his gaze to Charles. "What do I do if I find her? How do I know she doesn't attack me like Daken did? It's not good if this happens in public."

"I understand your concern, Logan. Every mutant is inherently dangerous, because of their power. But so too is every human inherently dangerous, because of our fear of the unkown. I'm sure you'll know what to do."

Pretty words, Logan thought, but that didn't seem to make his situation any easier. He stood from his chair and turned to leave towards his motorcycle.

"Remember, Logan, if you need any assistance, just call. Bobby Drake and Warren are on standby if it's necessary."

"Thanks Doc," Wolverine nodded, closing the door behind him.

* * *

X-23...No, Laura, she told herself, sat quietly at a window seat, hoping the passing scenery would take her mind off of the past several weeks.

The many shacks and houses that crossed her vision weren't enough to keep her mind off of Dr. Kinney.

Laura fought back the tears that were threatening to escape her eyes again.

She felt frustrated because she never cried this much before. She only remembered crying from the metal being injected into her bones. It felt unnatural to cry. She wasn't made to be emotional. Breathing deeply once, Laura pulled out the palm sized manila folder from the pocket of her "Harley-Davidson" jacket. she slid her thumb across the smooth surface, taking some small delight in being able to perform such a trivial action.

Opening the folder quickly, she pulled out a thick paper that was sloppily folded several times. She could smell Dr. Kinney's scent on it. The observation gave her some small comfort, committing the scent to memory. After all, the scent, which reminded her of weak perfume, and oddly, antiseptic, would disappear and she'd never smell it again, or see Dr. Kinney's face.

Laura unfolded the paper, at least four times, revealing the sheet to have been larger than she first thought. Without hesitation, she began to read.

She began to frown, however, upon finishing it.

She had heard of Wolverine, and she often heard that Weapon X was a monster, or an animalistic murderer. That thought quickly passed though. What did that make her, then? She had killed a lot of people, but didn't want to. Was that how it was like for Weapon X? She didn't know what to think, that this man was her father. But Dr. Kinney seemed to write about him with more respect than she did of her coworkers.

She had boarded the first train to any direction, per Dr. Kinney's orders. It just so happened that the train was headed to New York, the destination stated in the letter.

Almost gently, Laura refolded the paper and placed it back in the manila folder. She would have to think about what would happen some other time. For now, she was going to sleep. She hadn't had proper rest since she could remember.

* * *

Daken slowly walked by the set of Harley-Davidson motorcycles, all propped up on stands to keep from falling. What the young mutant was looking for specifically, was one with the most gasoline left in the tank. He continued to examine the vehicles, not bothering to mask how suspicious he was looking.

"Like the bikes, eh?"

Daken looked to his left to see several largely built men, eyeing him critically. They looked about ready for a fight.

"We're gonna have to ask you to move along. You look mighty suspicious walking around our rides like that."

"Just admiring the make and model," the young man replied smoothly, refocusing his attention on the bikes.

"I think you misunderstand me, _friend_. When I say we're askin' you," the apparent leader of the group stalked forward to stare the young punk down. "We're tellin' you to haul your ass outta here."

Daken breathed in the scent of heavy alcohol and smoke off the man. He laughed politely, looking the man in the eye. "Why don't you persuade me?"

"Don't play games with me, kid. I don't have a problem curb stomping arrogant little jap shits like you."

Daken had to admit, this guy had a lot of restraint seeing as how he was half-drunk. It almost made him feel sorry for having to punish the man and steal his bike. Almost. He put on his friendliest smile.

"It's only arrogant if I _can't _kick your ass."

Daken saw the wide swing coming from a mile away. Stepping lazily to the side, he kicked the larger man's ankle, sweeping him right off of his feet.

The man was out cold before anyone knew what happened.

The three others that were with him, two began to pull out pistols, but Daken reacted quickly and picked up the unconscious man, tensing his arms and throwing the man like one would a bag of potatoes. At the same time, he managed to thrift a set of keys out of the biker's pocket.

The three standing men were bowled over by the much heavier body. The young mutant used this window of opportunity to jump on the bike he recognized as having the same emblem as the key. Starting it up fast, he roared out of the lot with his new toy.

"Too easy," he said with a sad shake of his head.


End file.
